Hopes and Brides: Regency and Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  Sitting forward in his chair, Joseph looked at the order again, his heart picking up speed as it beat harder and faster in his chest. This order was for a certain type of perfume, which meant nothing to Joseph. It wasn’t something they normally bought in, but if a customer requested it, then Joseph knew his father would do everything he could to secure it.

  But when had his father written down this order? And why had Joseph not noticed it before?

  Rubbing his forehead, Joseph let his eyes drift over the piece of paper, making sure he took everything in. Peter Shaw had very rarely come down to the general store itself, spending most of his time in the study going over the accounts, writing out orders to post, and answering letters. He hadn’t set up an order in a long time, since he wasn’t regularly going down to speak to the customers.

  “Unless,” Joseph said aloud, his mind clearing for a moment. “Unless he wrote this order himself when he had the order book in his study.”

  At the end of each week, Joseph had always taken the order book home, handing it to his father so that he could make a note of what people had requested. He always made detailed copies and then handed the order book back to Joseph. That meant that, when the goods came in, both Joseph and his father knew who had ordered it and were able to write over the order page itself that it had been completed and paid for.

  Except that hadn’t been written on this particular page. There wasn’t anything to suggest that his father had sent for this particular perfume or that it had been given to Miss. A Waterstone, whoever she was. And it had been written some time ago, which meant that, somehow, Joseph had missed it completely.

  He frowned, running his fingers over the paper and realizing that it had been written on what had been a missed page in the order book. In fact, the date on the order for the perfume was months after the order before and the order after it. Which meant that his father must have found that page purposefully, so that Joseph wouldn’t see it, wouldn’t find it. Why was that?

  A dull, hollow throbbing filled his mind. He’d never really got to know his father. Did that mean that he had secrets that Joseph knew nothing about?

  “He died of a weak heart,” he said aloud to himself, looking down at the page with a mixture of fear and exasperation. “Don’t start letting your mind run away with you now, Joseph.”

  But he couldn’t help it. The strange appearance of Mr. Arbuckle, the disappearance of Mrs. Allan, his housekeeper, and then the supposed mail-order bride, who had come to take Mrs. Allan’s place…it all began to niggle at him, prodding him to believe there might be something more to his father’s sudden death.

  Closing his eyes, Joseph let his breath shudder out of him, suddenly feeling as though the whole world had suddenly started spinning around him, leaving him dazed and befuddled. Why had his father hidden an order for perfume at the back of the order book? And why had he scribbled, ‘Death of her sister’ over the top of it?

  Rubbing his forehead hard, Joseph tried to think clearly and carefully. Either he could let this go completely, forget about it and move ahead with his life, or he could look into the matter further, not certain what it would bring. It could easily mean nothing at all, since the words ‘Death of her sister’ might pertain to the perfume itself. Perhaps it was meant to be a commemorative piece for Miss Waterstone, meant to remind her of her late sister and nothing more.

  But his mind refused to settle on this. He had to find out what it meant, had to discover if the perfume truly had been ordered, and if so, where it had gone. The order book didn’t say that the order had been fulfilled, which meant that Miss Waterstone, if she really existed, might still be waiting for it.

  She might be able to explain to him what this all meant.

  “Joseph?”

  Mr. Arbuckle’s harsh tone caught him, tugging him out of his worrying thoughts. Setting the order book down, Joseph carefully tugged out the strange order. Folding it up, he pushed it into his pocket. He’d look at it again later in his own study when, perhaps, Mr. Arbuckle had gone to bed.

  “I’m coming,” he called, aware that his voice was hoarse and strained. Lifting his chin, he tried to clear his thoughts as he made his way to the front of the shop, ready to greet some customers.

  8

  Nora had spent the last week living in a state of nervousness. She found herself jumping at the slightest noise, her heart racing frantically as she turned around—only to find the place entirely empty. Thankfully, today she appeared to have gotten ahold of herself, taking care to remind herself that she had locked both the front door and her own quarters, whenever she’d taken a few minutes to rest.

  She could not be more grateful to Joseph for his consideration and kindness towards her. He’d been nothing but understanding, promising her to do something about the terror she’d faced, and she’d trusted him to do just that. He’d proven himself too, since there had been no noise of any kind during the night. There hadn’t been someone creeping along the hallway, and there hadn’t been someone trying her door handle in an attempt to get inside. In fact, there had been nothing at all.

  And she’d been able to sleep a little easier, which had come as a great relief. She was exhausted from her daily chores, although she found joy in cooking meals for Joseph, Mr. Arbuckle, and herself, as well as making sure that Billy and his wife had enough to eat. Thankfully, Billy was doing well, and his wife even better, which Nora was glad about. She’d seen the concern on Billy’s face when he’d told her about his sick wife, and her heart had broken for him.

  Humming quietly to herself, Nora cleared the dishes from the kitchen table, safe in the knowledge that Joseph and Mr. Arbuckle were seated in the living room across the hall, the sound of their low voices drifting towards her as she worked. Soon, Mr. Arbuckle would head up to bed, as he always did about this time, and she’d finish cleaning up before retiring herself. Joseph, however, would linger for another hour or so, although she never knew what he did. In the two weeks she’d been here, he’d never retired early but had stayed up, working in his study.

  She hesitated, her hand holding a plate over the bowl of water. Should she offer to bring him something to eat as he worked? She’d never really thought about it before, not wanting to disturb him, but her mind refused to let go of the idea.

  “Miss Nora?”

  Mr. Arbuckle’s voice filled the room, and the trembling in Nora’s soul returned immediately and with such a fierceness that it took her breath away.

  “Miss Nora, I have been remiss in apologizing to you.”

  She turned slowly, her heart racing as she saw Mr. Arbuckle standing framed in the doorway.

  “Joseph spoke to me a few days ago about my behavior, and I should have come to you straight away to apologize.” He shrugged, his eyes dropping to the floor in an expression of contrition. “I shouldn’t have come to your door the first night I was here. It was wrong of me to think of you in such a way.”

  Heat rippled through her cheeks. “I am not that kind of woman, Mr. Arbuckle.”

  “No,” he said slowly, his lips tugging downwards as he looked back at her, his eyes soft. “No, you are not. I can see that. I do apologize for frightening you.”

  Pressing her lips together, Nora clasped her hands in front of her, quite at a loss as to what to say.

  “I won’t disturb you again,” Mr. Arbuckle continued, taking a step backward out of the kitchen. “You have my word.”

  Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, Nora forced her chin a notch higher. "Thank you, Mr. Arbuckle.”

  He closed the door without another word, and just as he did so, Nora flung her hands out to lean heavily on the table, her breathing ragged. She had not expected Mr. Arbuckle to come to her kitchen or to speak to her in such an apologetic manner, but even the sight of him made her skin crawl. She was terrified of him, still.

  “Nora?”

  The door opened again, and Joseph stumbled in, his eyes wide.

  “Nora, are you all right?”
>
  She nodded, her breathing a little slower. “I’m fine, Joseph, thank you. Mr. Arbuckle just came to apologize to me.”

  He came closer to her, his hand reaching out towards her, only for him to drag it back as though he realized he shouldn’t try to touch her. Nora found that she missed that, her heart hurting with a fresh stab of pain.

  “Mr. Arbuckle shouldn’t be coming anywhere near you,” Joseph said harshly. “I told him to stay away.”

  Shaking her head, Nora lifted her gaze to his. “I’m fine, really. He just wanted to apologize.”

  Joseph’s lips were thin, his eyes flashing with anger. “I’m sorry, Nora. I just stepped out for a minute. I didn’t think he’d–”

  She put a hand on his arm, stemming the flow of words from his lips. He looked down at her hand, his eyes fixed there for a moment, his mouth closing tightly. Nora felt heat rush up her arm and into her cheeks, but she kept standing there regardless, looking back at him calmly.

  “Nora,” Joseph said throatily. “I–”

  “You didn’t let me down, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Nora found herself saying, aware of the concern in his eyes, the frustration and irritation that dug lines into his face. “Mr. Arbuckle seemed sincere, and these last few nights, I’ve slept more soundly than I have in a while. I trust you, Joseph. You’ve done what you said.”

  Joseph nodded slowly, and Nora lifted her hand, regretting the loss of contact between them but forcing herself to remember her place.

  He sighed and ran one hand through his hair, his expression growing rueful. Nora kept quiet, waiting to see if he would speak.

  “My mind’s just been so filled these last few days,” he muttered, leaning heavily on the table. “I’ve been on edge with Mr. Arbuckle walking about the town and worrying that he’ll try and make his way back to you.”

  Nora couldn’t help but smile at his consideration of her. “He ain’t shown up here even once,” she promised, as Joseph threw her a glance. “I swear it.”

  Nodding, Joseph let out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to deaden the happiness in Nora’s soul. There was something that was hurting Joseph, something that was bringing him pain and confusion, but she had no idea what it was. It certainly wasn’t her place to ask.

  “Can I bring you something to eat?” she asked, stepping away from him and back towards where she’d been cleaning the dishes. “I know you spend some time in your study after Mr. Arbuckle’s gone to bed, and I’d be glad to bring you something.”

  “Thank you, Nora,” Joseph muttered, not looking in the least bit happy. “The truth is, I might need your help with something.”

  She set the plate down before picking up another one to dry. “Sure.”

  He looked at her, tilting his head just a little. “I need to go into my father’s study.”

  Blinking, Nora paused for a moment, looking up into Joseph’s face and seeing a haggardness there. That study had been locked up tight since the first day she’d come to the house, and—from what she knew—even Joseph had never gone into it.

  “I’d be glad to help you in whatever way you need,” she said slowly, her heart twisting with sadness for him as he passed one hand over his eyes. “Have you been back in there since…?”

  Joseph shook his head, his lips quivering for just a moment. “No. I haven’t. In fact, I’ve known I need to go back in there for a while, but something happened at the end of last week that’s forced me to act.”

  Nora put the dishes away and, seeing the way he was watching her, gave him a quick smile. “Let me just fix us both some coffee,” she murmured, trying to remember if she had any cakes left over from this morning’s baking. “You sure look as though you could use something.”

  He chuckled sadly and sat down, pulling something out of his pocket that he held in his hand, looking down at it with sad eyes. Nora, feeling a sense of urgency in what she was doing, quickly made up a pot of coffee, pulled out a tin of cakes and set both of them on the table. Within a few minutes, Joseph was busy adding cream to his coffee, and she sat down at the table to give him her full attention.

  “My goodness, Nora, I’ve missed talking to you.”

  She blinked furiously, as he looked over at her, no hint of guile in his expression.

  “It ain’t been easy having Mr. Arbuckle staying here, has it?” he continued, still watching her intently. “I know for you, he’s been a bit of an unwelcome presence, but even I’ve found it hard having him around so much. It’s almost like he’s planning on living here.” Sighing, he shoved one hand through his fair hair, raking it out of its neat style and giving him a bit more of a rough appearance.

  Nora’s stomach tightened.

  “I still ain’t all that sure about him, truth be told,” Joseph continued, clearly unaware of the influence he was having on her. “But I think, most of all, I miss the quiet that came before he was around. I miss coming home and having a quiet dinner.” His eyes fixed on hers, and Nora, who felt quite incapable of speech, felt warmth pool deep within her. “I think I miss just being able to talk with you, Nora. Mr. Arbuckle’s conversation ain’t anything compared to yours.”

  Swallowing hard, Nora tried to smile despite the fact that her mouth had gone completely dry, and she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to get a single word out. She wasn’t certain what it was Joseph was saying but was all too aware that he was someone she’d come to think of with a great deal of fondness. Of course, it was ridiculous for a housekeeper to have any kind of feeling for her employer and so she’d never allowed herself to linger on those feelings, but as Joseph continued to speak, they grew and bubbled up within her, strong and intense.

  “I trust you, Nora,” Joseph continued, his voice a little softer. “That’s why I need your help. I gotta tell someone about this.”

  Nora picked up her coffee and took a long sip, letting it take the dryness away from her throat. “Sure, I’d be glad to do what I can to help,” she said, as Joseph unfolded the paper he’d left sitting on the table. “Is there something in the study that needs cleaning up?” She didn’t shudder at the thought of being in the room where a man had once lain dead, knowing that it was going to be a good deal more difficult for Joseph than it would be for her.

  Joseph shook his head. “No. I just gotta try and find something, and I’m guessing two people searching for it will be better than one.” He handed her the note, which she took carefully, letting her eyes drift over the page as she read the strange words.

  Her brows knotted as she read it again, looking up at Joseph to see him watching her intently.

  “What does it mean?” she asked, entirely confused. “Who wrote it?”

  He sighed and took it back from her, his fingers brushing hers. “My father wrote it, a few months before he died,” he said, letting his eyes rest on the paper. “He wrote it in between two different orders from a long time ago, so as I wouldn’t find it.”

  She frowned. “Why didn’t he want you to find it?”

  Shrugging, Joseph looked back at her a little helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t understand what any of this means.”

  “He never told you?”

  To her horror, Joseph closed his eyes and dragged in a long breath, either deeply upset or struggling to find the words to explain. Nora pressed her lips together, her concern growing by the minute.

  “My father and I were never close,” Joseph said slowly, his eyes still shut tight. “He wouldn’t ever share with me if there was something troubling him. He was always quiet about personal matters.”

  “I see,” Nora murmured, her fingers itching to reach across the table and touch his in a gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, his face a mask. “It was something I learned to live with. I guess I always hoped that we might be more than just business partners, but he didn’t live long enough for things to change the way I’d hoped.”

  Nora couldn’t help but press her hands on top of his, wanting to bring him some me
asure of comfort. He jumped in surprise but didn’t tug his hands away. Instead, he just looked back at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with a deep, unrelenting sadness.

  “Can you help me find this perfume?” he asked, after a few minutes had passed. “Or, at the very least, anything that might relate to Miss Waterstone and her sister?”

  “Sure I can,” Nora replied, her voice a little hoarse with the emotions that were riding, roughshod, over her heart. “When do you want to start looking?”

  He sighed, glancing at the darkening sky outside the kitchen window. “I was gonna start tonight, but I’m guessing it’s a little late. Tomorrow then? I can get the orders done early and make sure Billy’s all right to handle the place by himself for a bit.”

  She nodded, glad he’d been able to ask her for help. “Of course.”

  “Mr. Arbuckle should be busy with whatever he’s doing in town,” Joseph continued, with a half-smile. “So he won’t be around to bother us.”

  Nora made to answer, only for a creak of floorboards to shatter the quiet happiness that filled the kitchen.

  Joseph let go of her hands and threw back his chair, getting to his feet at once. Nora did so too, albeit a little more slowly, her heart quickening its pace as they listened quietly.

  Then, the creak came again.

  “Mr. Arbuckle?” Nora whispered, her eyes wide as she looked back at Joseph. “Do you think…?”

  Joseph shook his head. “Even if it was Mr. Arbuckle, I don’t think he’d have heard a thing,” he said quietly, although the lines in his forehead told Nora that he was more worried than he was admitting. “Anyway, I’d best be going on myself. I--I’ll see you tomorrow then, Nora.”

  She managed a small smile, aware that her heart was now thumping for an entirely different reason. The way he was looking at her, with his warm eyes and gentle smile, was sending all sorts of strange flurries through her.